


Sea Changes

by DistortedDaytime



Series: Saferwaters [1]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Leni The Pug, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Aware Twink Paulo, Translation Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistortedDaytime/pseuds/DistortedDaytime
Summary: “Thanks, Daddy.”Mario goes still.Oh. Shit. Paulo feels an anxious laugh bubbling up in his throat. There’s still time to play it off as a joke, right? Right, totally-The sound dies when Mario grips the back of his neck in one strong hand.-Translation into Russian available!





	1. The Breaking Of A Wave

**Author's Note:**

> Sure, porn bunny, just nibble at me when I've got other stuff in progress. Go right ahead.

It starts with YouTube.

Looking back, Paulo should have known the internet was more trouble than it’s worth, but once he clicked on the first video he couldn’t stop. Jerking off to Mario’s highlights wasn’t supposed to become a thing, except now, after too many times and no more excuses, it’s definitely a thing. Paulo’s a little gay and a lot horny and getting turned on by good football is nothing new. He might be embarrassed about it if his teammates weren’t just as bad. They all like what they like, and Paulo’s content to let them think he likes it, too.

It they knew what he really wanted...if Mario knew…

He keeps clicking. Bayern, Atleti, Juve, finally to Mario’s legendary brawl with Sergio Ramos. Paulo moans and speeds up his hand. Mario’s strong, he’s aggressive, he never once backs down or shows fear. It makes Paulo’s mouth water and his knees ache to kneel. He’d be such a good daddy, taking what’s his and using Paulo hard, yeah, leave him sore in the good way and take care of him after…

Shaking, Paulo comes all over his fist.

*

Manchester is awesome. None of the focus is on them no matter how much it’s a team game; the narratives are elsewhere and even though he feels a little guilty about it Paulo takes the boon for what it is until they’re on the pitch.

Scoring is great, it always is, and the rush of victory hums in Paulo’s blood. Mario’s waiting in the dressing room after full-time; he twisted an ankle earlier so he didn’t dress as a precaution, but he’s effervescent and unhurt, as high on winning as the rest of them. He slings an arm around Paulo’s shoulders and tells him, “Good game.”

Paulo shivers at the praise and instinctively nestles closer for a second. “Thanks, Daddy.”

Mario goes still.

Oh. Shit. Paulo feels an anxious laugh bubbling up in his throat. There’s still time to play it off as a joke, right? Right, totally-

The sound dies when Mario grips the back of his neck in one strong hand.

Paulo risks a glance up. Mario’s still touching him and he doesn’t look mad, instead he looks...pensive. He squeezes Paulo’s neck once and then lets go, lengthening his strides to go catch up with the others.

*

That night, back at their hotel, Paulo doesn’t queue up any videos. The memory of Mario’s touch is all he needs.

*

Everything’s normal when they get back to Italy. No awkwardness, no weird silences, just life as usual. It’s good. It’s fine. Paulo can handle fine.

About a week later Mario corners him after training. He’s not quite looming over Paulo, but there’s something unusual about his bearing. It’s different. Stronger.

“Come over for dinner tonight,” he says in a tone with no room for debate. “And bring treats for Leni.”

Right, because Mario’s fat spoiled pug needs more treats. Paulo just hums an agreement and prays his knees don’t give out.

“Any- any special kind?”

“No. He is not fussy.”

Paulo swallows, nodding. Be cool, be cool… “Okay. Um, see you later?”

Mario touches his neck and walks off, leaving Paulo to exhale a shaky breath and try like hell to ignore where the touch still burns.

*

Paulo stops off at a dog bakery before going to Mario’s. He’s a little amazed at the variety, because who even _needs_ a bakery for their dog, but that doesn’t stop him from buying a nice mixed bag of biscuits.

The reality of what he’s doing sinks in when he gets to Mario’s front door. This...Paulo’s not misreading it, right? He can’t even imagine that level of embarrassment. God, he’d never be able to look Mario in the eye again. He raises his hand to ring the buzzer, but the door opens and there’s Mario, nudging his dog back with one foot.

“Hi."

Paulo’s mouth goes dry as he chokes out, “Hey.”

Mario’s in track pants and an ugly t-shirt with his hair spiked as usual. He’s relaxed, at ease in his own space. Paulo wants to make a place for himself here, too.

“Uh, I brought the dog treats,” he says after getting inside and settling on Mario’s couch with Leni nuzzled against his arm. “Why’d you tell me to bring dog treats, of all things? I coulda gotten a bottle of wine or something, y’know, human stuff.”

“Because I wanted to see if you’d listen,” says Mario simply. “And you did.”

Paulo gives him a shaky smile. He listened, did as he was told, showed he can be good-

“Relax. I’ll bring some food,” says Mario, breaking into Paulo’s thoughts.

He smiles once, then disappears into the kitchen.

*

After an easy meal of spaghetti and some mindless Netflix, Paulo’s in a weird place. He’s comfortable yet uneasy, relaxed and ready to vibrate out of his skin. Even with Leni demanding attention and laying between them Mario’s been so close all night, right there but never touching him. Paulo’s hyper-aware of every little brush of skin or fabric, how easy it would be to close the gap, but he doesn’t.

Eventually Mario switches off the TV and turns to look at him.

“What you said to me, in England…”

Paulo drops his gaze. He’s not...fuck, he’s not _ashamed_ of what he wants _,_ but he’s not going to watch Mario tell him all the good reasons he can’t have it.

He starts a little when Mario takes his chin in a firm hand and tilts his face up. Paulo stifles a whimper and it comes out high-pitched instead; it’s just a taste of what he needs, Mario touching him and not letting go. He looks at Paulo with the same expression he wore back in Manchester, pensive and searching.

“You really want this with me? Not with one of the others?”

It’s hard to answer when Mario’s hand is moving down his neck, stroking here, caressing there, urging Paulo to tilt his head back and bare his throat.

Eventually Paulo manages, “I just want you.”

It hangs in the air, then Mario’s mouth is on his, kissing Paulo like he owns him, and fucking shit, maybe he does. Maybe, maybe, please, no one’s ever-

Mario’s hands urge him up and Paulo scrambles to comply, straddling  Mario’s lap. He’s never been kissed like this, not slow and filthy like, like...it’s just the start of something bigger. God. He can’t think. Paulo moans and gives in to it, opening for Mario, kissing back desperately.

Someone’s whimpering, Paulo catches soft broken sounds nearby and it takes a second to realize they’re coming from him. He can’t be quiet, though, not with Mario nipping at his neck and palming his ass, murmuring in a slurred mixed of Croatian and Italian.

“You think of me?”

Paulo shakes his head to clear away some of the fog. “Mm? Oh, God-”

“When you fuck yourself, you think of me?” Mario clarifies, and Paulo moans.

“Every time, Daddy, please…”

A quick press of teeth against his skin, a smile, then a sharp bite high on Paulo’s neck where he won’t be able to hide it. “Tell me.”

God, he’d be mortified if he wasn’t so fucking desperate. “I...it’s just you, fucking me hard, and, and, using me however you want, because it’s not about me, I just wanna be good and make you feel good so you’ll do it again.”

Mario kisses him again and Paulo can feel his erection through the layers of fabric. “What else?”

“Your hands,” Paulo admits. “I love your hands, god, I think about you just...taking your time opening me up, how hard it would be not to come right there from your fingers inside me and I know what’s coming next, I’m gonna be so full, Daddy’s gonna split me open-”

“Okay, okay,” Mario interrupts, some pink tinged high on his cheekbones. “That’s enough, Paulo. That’s good.”

“That was good? Can I?”

He tries to slide off the couch, get on his knees, but Mario holds him in place.

“No.”

Paulo makes a sound halfway between a pout and a whine. “Why not? I wanna suck you off, I always want-”

He’s cut off by two of Mario’s fingers sliding into his mouth, pressing at the back of his tongue. Paulo gags around them but Mario doesn’t let up and he doesn’t look away. His eyes are bright and intent as they search Paulo’s face.

“I want, too. But we’re going slow. We learn, and we make sure it doesn’t mess with the team.”

Abruptly he withdraws his fingers and sets a gasping Paulo up on his feet.

“M-Mario?” Paulo’s voice is a little strained and he doesn’t know what he’s asking for, not quite.

Mario stands up and steps right into Paulo’s space, his hand going to its place on the back of Paulo’s neck. “You can jerk off when you get home, but just that. Nothing in your ass, no fingers, no toys.”

“How did you-” Paulo slams his mouth shut before he can ask just how Mario knew he was going for his favorite toy tonight. “I mean-  okay, Daddy.”

Mario smiles at him, one of the rare ones that’s crooked and a little shy.

“Good boy.”


	2. The Tide Is Full

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mišiću" means Little Mouse in Croatian. No clue why this nickname stuck, but it did, and here we are.

“Daddy?”

There’s no answer. Paulo licks his lips and pulls at the bathrobe belt tied around his wrists, testing. He likes being tied up and waiting in Mario’s bed, eyes covered, part toy and part dirty little secret, but he can’t sense exactly where Mario is until the bed dips on one side.

Paulo jerks when a hand comes to rest on his ribs. Mario’s touch isn’t entirely familiar yet, they’re still going slow but the need is only getting worse. He just wants to be Mario’s good boy, hell, spread his legs and beg like he’s in heat, but he tried once and it didn’t work. Patience, Mario likes to tell him, but it’s _hard._

The bed shifts again. Mario’s suddenly a long line of heat against Paulo’s side and he exhales, lets himself float a little. He’s safe. His Daddy is here.

“Doing okay?” Mario asks.

Paulo nods.

“Good. Because I like you like this. My boy, in my bed, waiting for me.”

Paulo shivers and bites his lip at the hint of possessiveness. “You could show me how much you like it,” he says, turning his head in the direction of Mario’s voice.

The hand on Paulo’s chest is moving now, circling one of his nipples. He arches into the touch as best as he can and whimpers when it vanishes.

“Be-”

“Be patient, I know,” Paulo finishes, pouting a little. “Can I be patient and have your cock in my mouth at the same time?”

He’s probably pushing it, but Mario leaves for Croatia tomorrow and Paulo won’t get to see him or suck him off while he’s gone. He’s already addicted to the feel and taste of Mario in his mouth, his hands in Paulo’s hair holding him in place, and the tone in his voice when he tells Paulo to be good and swallow everything. He whines again, then starts as his hands are freed and his blindfold comes off.

There’s Mario, watching him intently as Paulo’s eyes adjust to the light.

“You want my cock?”

Paulo nods eagerly. “Please, Daddy?”

“Good boy. Give me something to remember while I’m gone.”

He guides Paulo’s head down, but he doesn’t have to. Paulo’s already moving, mouth open, wanting.

*

The time passes easily. Paulo keeps his routine, hangs out with his teammates who are in Turin over the break, goes over to Mario’s to keep Leni company. It’s kind of nice to just be normal for a few days.

He’s over at Rodrigo’s, rooting around in the depths of the fridge for something that isn’t nauseatingly healthy, when his phone rings. It takes a bit of maneuvering to get the phone up to his ear and not drop a green smoothie, but Paulo manages and answers,

“Hello?”

“Hi, _mišiću._ ”

Paulo beams as he abandons the refrigerator and nudges it closed. “Hey. Are you back?”

Clattering claws and Leni’s familiar snort-barks echo in the background. “I just got home,” says Mario. “Are you busy tonight?”

“I was just gonna stay in and play Fortnite or something, so no, I’m really, really not.”

“Can I see you?”

The question makes Paulo’s grin soften and his cheeks heat. Yeah, Mario’s in charge of a lot of things between them, but he prefers asking to demanding and Paulo appreciates it. He looks around, checking. Rodrigo’s still on the couch. Good.

“I missed you, Daddy. Do you want me to come right now?”

Mario makes a low noise. “If you can. Bring whatever you’ll need for tonight. Once I get you I’m not letting you go.”

“Good. Uh. I mean…” Ugh, words are hard when Paulo’s trying not to blurt out something sappy. “I’ll see you soon?”

He hangs up and takes a deep breath. He’s a little anxious, skin tingling and stomach alight with the good butterflies. Paulo says goodbye to Rodrigo and only breaks a few traffic laws getting back home to shower, shave, and grab his things.

*

Mario opens the door before Paulo even gets a chance to knock. He takes Paulo’s wrist and brings him inside, smiling in that crooked way of his. It makes Paulo’s heart flip over. God, how didn’t he see it sooner? They got to the club at the same time, won championships together…they’re _friends._ Before anything else, they’re friends, and it makes this whole thing that much better.

He’s moving before he really registers what he’s doing, going up on his tiptoes and wrapping his arms around Mario’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Fuck being patient, he needs to be closer, and he needs it now.

Mario seems to agree. His hands go right to Paulo’s ass and he lifts him up like he’s done so many times in training, urging Paulo’s legs around his waist. Paulo complies eagerly and holds on tight. He won’t let go, and Mario’s strong, yeah, he can hold him no problem.

Grinning into the kiss, Paulo hums his contentment as Mario maneuvers them out of the front hall and through the house. It feels so right to be back in his Daddy’s arms; the arousal is instant but it’s sweet, too, something to savor even if Paulo might actually die if he doesn’t get fucked soon. They make it to the bedroom with no problems and Mario drops him on the bed.

“What’s that look for, hmm?” Mario’s face disappears for a moment as he pulls his shirt off.

Paulo just shakes his head. “I’m happy, Daddy. I missed you,” he says, and Mario’s expression softens.

“You’re happy? With this?”

“Oh my god. Do you know how awesome it is that I actually get to touch you and be close to you and not have to worry you’ll think I’m a freak or something? I’m, like, _euphoric_.”

Mario takes Paulo’s face in his hands and kisses him again, slow and thorough. Paulo melts into it, humming happily as he runs his hands over Mario’s chest. He’s struck with a bolt of inspiration.

“Get on your back, Daddy?”

“Are you telling me what to do, little mouse?”

“No. I’m just trying to make you feel good...unless I have to keep being patient,” Paulo adds, just a touch petulant, and Mario laughs.

“Not tonight, at least.”

He lays back and rests his hands behind his head, casual as can be. He’s smiling, though, that look he gets in training when he’s won a competition and wants to brag about it. Paulo rolls his eyes. Fine. If Mario’s gonna be that way…

He shucks his clothes off and makes short work of Mario’s underwear. There’s lube and condoms in the nightstand, easy enough to grab-

“Give me that,” Mario says, and plucks the lube right out of Paulo’s hand.

“But-”

Mario cuts him off with a look. “What kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t get my boy ready for me, hmm?”

“But you’re supposed to be-”

“ _Paulo._ ”

He shuts up.

“Stay on my lap, but turn around and face the wall.”

Paulo bites his lip and does as he’s told. Mario puts a hand between his shoulder blades and eases his chest down so Paulo’s bent over his legs.

“Good boy. Stay like that.”

Paulo shivers when Mario spreads him open with both hands, holding him like that in the bedroom’s quiet. He waits but nothing comes and he swears he can feel Mario’s eyes on him. Paulo’s face burns with humiliation at being so exposed.

The first touch of Mario’s fingers makes him jump, but Mario’s other hand rubs his hip, soothing.

“Easy, _mišiću_. Daddy’s here.”

That, more than anything, puts Paulo at ease. There’s no universe in which Mario would let anything bad happen to him, he’s here, easing one finger into Paulo and telling him how good he feels, how good he’s going to feel. Soon enough Paulo’s fucking himself back onto it, and a second finger comes up to join the first.

“Put it in, Daddy?”

Paulo swears he catches a low growl. “What was that?”

“Please? Please, Daddy, can I have more? I want to be ready for you.” Too cheesy? Too slutty? Whatever. “Daddy, please? Spread me open?”

This time Paulo’s sure he hears a growl, then the second finger breaches him and he moans. He’s more full than he was, but it’s still not enough. Mario angles his fingers just right and Paulo cries out as the feeling lights up his spine.

“Do you think you could come like this?” Mario asks in a low voice. “My boy, so desperate for me that this is all it takes? God, Pau, you’re...I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Paulo turns over his shoulder to look at Mario. He has to look about twelve different kinds of fucked up with his hair in his eyes and his face flushed red, but Mario’s looking at him like he’s something amazing.

“Yours. Just yours,” Paulo nods.

Mario beams at him. “C’mere.”

It sucks that he has to ease off of Mario’s fingers to turn back around, but it’s worth it for the way Mario kisses him like he’s starving for it. Paulo moans happily and wiggles into position, hovering over Mario’s cock.

He wants so badly to just fuck down and take it inside him. Instead, he asks,

“Can I, Daddy?”

Mario nods.

*

Afterwards, they curl up under the covers, limbs tangled, heartbeats slowly returning to normal. Paulo can’t stop smiling.

"Was it worth the wait, little mouse?" Mario whispers.

" _You_ were," Paulo corrects, and nestles deeper into Mario's arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your sweet comments and coming along on this pervy little journey with me!


End file.
